What If I Try (And What If It Works)
Naming the Double Fear I’m anxious. This isn’t shocking, and it’s not even really news. Anyone who knows me knows that on a scale of one to ten, I’m perpetually functioning at about a seven. Not panicking, exactly, just always a little braced. "Uptight", if you will. On the one hand, this makes me an absolute ringer in a crisis: I’m calm, focused, competent. I know how to prioritize, how to move, how to keep things from fully falling apart. On the other hand, I’m also really good at putting things off long enough that they become a crisis so I can finally handle them. (That one might actually be the ADHD.) For a long time, I assumed the problem was just fear of failure, that my particular brand of perfectionism keeps me from attempting things unless I’m reasonably sure I’ll succeed. If I can’t do it well, or all the way, or correctly, then maybe I shouldn’t do it at all. At least that way I don’t have to sit with the discomfort of trying and coming up short. But ...